Several weeks ago, a comprehensive list of this year’s Grammy nominations was released. Despite having a nice array of talented artists present, I had to stop scrolling once the words “Taylor” and “Swift” became engrained in my retinas due to sheer overexposure.
I swiftly turned my head away from the glowing screen and looked out my window to admire the quaint courtyards of the Murphree Area. As I gazed over the historically old structures around me, my eye caught a girl wearing a Queen T-shirt. Instead of commending her taste in music, my mind wandered into the past. How many Grammys did Queen take home with such an impressive career? One Google later, I had the answer.
None.
Wait, how could that be? How can the group that gave us classics like “Bohemian Rhapsody” and “Killer Queen” not even have ONE Grammy? Are the Grammys really that daft to not recognize such talent? More importantly, have other enduring artists been robbed of those illustrious, five-pound gold trophies?
As it turns out, many have. Lasting artists such as the Doors, Bob Marley, ABBA, The Who, Jimi Hendrix and Snoop Dogg are just a few acts who lack Grammys.
When discussing music, one must be aware of how subjective the entire topic is. An individual’s musical tastes are essentially unique, which is a beautiful sentiment. But is it really true that beauty is in the eye of the beholder? If so, then I suppose the Grammys don’t really mean anything.
I find it fascinating that our culture is so fixated on entertainment award shows. Enjoying art is intrinsically no longer enough to warrant its existence. Any worthy work of art, whether it be an album or a film, must have a trophy or strong box office receipt to show for itself.
As Americans, we like keeping record of the things we enjoy. When accomplishments are recorded and kept, competition is undeniable and the potential for “ranking” subjects against one another arises. Take a minute to browse BuzzFeed or even Facebook. Ranking certain facets of our culture is as hot as it’s ever been, especially when it involves comparing past and present.
Take one step back and really think about our obsession with quantifying “success.”
Who am I to tell someone his or her taste in music is inferior to mine?
Why do I feel the need to hit “Private Session” on Spotify when I want to blast ABBA into my ears for a few minutes during lunch?
I believe it’s all psychological. We all want to think others value our tastes. However, I suppose listening to “Dancing Queen” on Spotify puts my credibility among my peers in danger, which is ridiculous, considering “Dancing Queen” is one of the best pop songs ever made.
The Grammys are certainly not a popularity contest — Arcade Fire’s 2011 Best Album win for “The Suburbs” is evidence of this — which is good, but I do not believe Grammy voters have better taste in music than you or me. We love it when our favorite artists win, but when they lose to Adele we call the awards meaningless.
So, which is it?
Nobody stops listening to an artist when they don’t get a Grammy; enjoyment is simply not that shallow. Grammys exist to acknowledge excellence in the music industry, but the best part about them is that outside of one night in February, they don’t mean much. So, go on and continue listening to what makes you happy and revel in the knowledge that music will still be there for you to enjoy, regardless of which artists took home a faux-gilded gramophone.
Andrew Hall is a UF finance sophomore. His column appears on Thursdays.
